A Swallow's Map
by J. M. Winchester
Summary: Sequal to Better Than Rum And Gold. A new, or not so new, FEMALE captain catches Jack's eye and heart all over again, adventure ensues. Notice that the rating is M. You've been warned. My writing has changed a lot over the past year.
1. Chapter 1: Bitemarks & Old Friends

**_AN_:** Do your eyes decieve you? The promised sequal is finally being written? That's right. I came across the plot guide I had typed out for this story last year and just couldn't resist writing it. So, enjoy chapter one! Also, Arabell with be going by Lady Fate now. You'll find out why, just read. Reviews make me very happy!!

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Three years after Miss Arabell _Fate_'s death, we find Jack Sparrow on the dirty shore of Tortuga. It's early in the morning, only an hour or two after sunrise. A crab turns toward Jack, watching him. It clicks, annoying, almost as if it's laughing. "Perfect. What would my torment be without freaky crabs here to mock me?" He says aloud. Unlike the rest of his crew, except Will of course; he always stayed aboard the Pearl, he didn't feel the need to go to one of the taverns, nor the wench houses. Ever since you died he has been acting...differently. Whenever his crew confronts him about it he simply denies everything. Jack grabs a handful of sand and flings it at a group of crabs, which flinch back. He then collapses into the sand. A crab scuttles forward, looks at Jack, Scuttles sideways, looks at The Faithful Bride, a tavern. The most popular one on the island. "Are ye tryin' to tell me I should go in there?" He asks, sitting halfway up. The crab clicks. "I'm talkin'...to a crab." He says, falling back down. The crab scuttles away quickly. Jack sits back up, squinting as he looks at the Caribbean sun. Perhaps he should do as the crab...clicked? He looks back over at the Faithful Bride. "What the hell," He says, getting to his feet, "The ole' gullet could use some rum."

Jack is now sitting in the pub, having already drunken three bottles of rum. "Ye think she was kiddin'?" A pirate sitting at a table near Jack whispered, obviously nervous about what he was saying being heard. "I mean...The Captain didn't really hide all the treasure...did she?" Jack's ears tuned into the conversation at the mention of treasure. "Aye." Another pirate said, this one female. That was defiantly a rare find, "She went and buried it all. Damn it to hell, we ne'er e'en got our share!" She spoke somewhat loudly. "Will you be quiet Manacca, she might be 'round here somewhere." The first pirate whispered. "Lady Fate seems to turn up whenever someone starts talkin' 'bout her. It's like she hears everything...knows everything..." he shuddered. Jack furrowed his eyebrows. Lady Fate? He was assuming that was the Captain they were talking about. A female Captain...that was even more of a find._ Fate_...That sounded familiar. He shrugged it off, Fate was as common a name as any. "I think yer just paranoid." The female pirate said, sloshing down some rum, "I can understand why though. She is sort a' eery. She never tans, or burns, or anything, and those ey-" "You wouldn't be talk about my eyes, now would you, Manacca?" Jack had a small, tiny suspicion he knew who this 'Lady Fate' was. He just couldn't bring himself to believe it was possible. How could some so...fragile...better yet, how could someone so squeamish become a pirate? Even more of a question, how could someone so...dead...become a pirate? He studied the girl's attire. It consisted of a pair of leather boots, brown breeches that ended just below her knees, a chemise that had been cut to reach only an inch below her chest, covering the white chemise was a deep red corset that had also been cut. It came three or four inches above her belly button. Jack noticed the girl's stomach was well toned, no doubt do to the act of piracy. A top her head sat...Jack's hat. Oh, how he'd missed his wonderful hat. Her orangey-gold curls spilled out from under it. Her skin was as pale as the moon, not natural for a sailor of any kind, and her eyes...a bright gold, with a few flecks of brown now and then. Aye, he knew this person.

You sat down across from your crew. They had never been a faithful lot. Never seemed to last longer either. You tended to scare several people away... "So what was it you were saying about my eyes?" You ask, pretending to be curious. "Ah...She was saying how beautiful they are, Captain." The male pirate lied. "No, I wasn't" Manacca muttered, You decided to ignore her. "You're a good man, Mr. Sean." You say, admiring his attempt to cover for his mate. He beamed, feeling pride, "But a cowardly one too." You added, watching the pride wash away. You felt eyes on your back, and stiffened. You were use to getting stares, with your ghostly appearance it was foolish not to expect them, but this one was different. You whip around to tell the person off for starring, but find yourself at a lose for words. "Mr. Sparrow?" You whisper, your voice relapsing into that meek tone you had once possessed. Jack smirks, taking another swig of rum before replying, "Aye, love?" "Jack Sparrow, what are ye doing here?" you ask, sounding somewhat bitter. "_Captain_. Captain Jack Sparrow." Jack mutters, "I could ask ye the same question. Last I saw ye, ye were dead." You glare slightly, "I was." "And how might that've come about, love? Never could figure that one out." You roll your golden eyes, "One of Jones's crew found me. 'Next thing I know, he's flat on the ground with blood oozing from his eyes..." You trail off with a shudder, "I passed out after that...well, died." In your drunken state, you had acted on instinct, using your newly obtained powers to stop him from taking you. Only, since you had no real control over said powers, it had drained you to the point of death. "Thank you for that by the way. Tesoro sav-" Jack rudely cuts you off, "Tesoro? Who might that be, love?" As if hearing Jack, A tiny copper fairy flew off Jack's, well yours as of recent, hat. She had been sleeping inside the upturned rim. She landed on your shoulder with a yawn. "Ye named it?" Jack asked, arching an eyebrow as the two other pirates scurried off while their Captain was distracted. You clearly hadn't noticed, or just didn't care, as you began talking again, "Her. Not it. Her. And I didn't name her. I had no need to, she already had a name."

You move to sit down at Jack's table, opposite him, "And might I inquire as to why you were starring so intently at my back?" "I was just wonderin' how I made such an impact on ye..." Jack says, waving his hand in a wildly dismissive manner. "What are you talking about?" You question, confused. "Yer tattoo, it's a sparrow." Sure enough, you had gotten a tattoo on your left shoulder blade, and your white shimmy clung to your upper arms instead of your shoulders, exposing the inked skin to the world. "It isn't a sparrow. So don't think it has anything to do with you, it's a swallow." "Swallows just another name for sparrows, love." "No, they aren't." You lie, sounding stubborn, "They are entirely different." Jack smirks, but doesn't push the matter, "Might I ask why yer so bitter?" Jack questioned, offering you some of his rum, which took you by surprise. Nonetheless you took a swig before returning it to him. "Shouldn't I be bitter? First you trick me into getting drunk, then you take me to an isle I didn't want to be on, then you manage to get me killed, and then you leave me on said isle to waste away." You snap. "Yes, well...I though ye were dead...fer good, I mean." He says feeling guilty, but not showing it. "Never ya mind that, it's in the past." Jack said, gulping down more rum, "Tell me how ye managed to receive the title of Captain." He said, propping his feet on the table. You tell him the tale of you waking from the dead due to Tesoro somehow brought some mystic, Tia Damla, to you. Finding The Banshee completely deserted, save for five people who you managed to scare bad enough that they helped you sail it into Tortuga's port. From there you found more seaworthy men, and one woman to crew the ship, and ever since you have been pirating the Caribbean. As you tell the story, you manage to forgive Jack, maybe due to the rum. Ohkay, definitely due to the rum.

After hours of talking you and Jack both decide to return to your ships. You follow Jack out of the tavern and onto the dock. He turns toward the Pearl, but you quickly stop him from disappearing by asking, "Mr. Sparrow, when do you plan to leave Tortuga?" Jack turns around to face you, "Why do ye ask, love?" "Well..." You quickly think of a lie, "I want to know how much time I have been blessed with to drive you off your rocker." You say smartly. 'Not completely a lie...' You think, satisfied. "A day." Jack says, "Maybe two." he waves his arm in a unimportant, yet slightly crazy, kind of way. You notice something in his eyes change...perhaps out of pain... Tesoro had flown over to his nose, and bitten it just as he was getting ready to turn away. Jack glares at the creature as it sits on your shoulder, "Stupid beastie." "She isn't a beast, Jack." "She bit me!" He says in a rather childlike way, pointing his finger at the tiny fairy. You roll your eyes, and turn away, walking toward The Banshee.


	2. Chapter 2: Wenches

**_AN_: **I wrote most of this while watching three kids play in the park's stream, so to say the least, I was distracted. I think Jack is also a little off in this chapter. I usually watch one of the movies while writing these so that I can really get a feel for his daft genius, but I didn't have that option this time. Sorry. I hope it's ohkay.

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You stand, midday, on the deck of the once treacherous _Banshee_, looking exotic and out of place against all of the dark, tanned bodies of your crew, your hair glittering against the harsh glare of the Carribean sun. Your forearms press into the railing of the not-so-grand ship, overlooking the happenings of the busy, rocky island. You couldn't help thinking that it looked like a turtle as you tried not to show your anxiety towards seeing Jack again. In truth, you hadn't even gotten any sleep. Not exactly something that was new to you. Your entire time on the_ Black Pearl_, you had lived on hardly any sleep at all due to the fact that you were surrounded by low down pirates who hadn't gotten any in months. Not exactly the safest enviromential situation. Your pulled away from the nostalgic memories by the most obnoxious laughter that you have ever heard. You know that ungodly sound all too well. Manacca. You lean farther over the railing, your eyes dropping down to see that she-pirate hanging all over Jack. _Your_ Jack. Not that you'd ever admit your feelings for the unclean captain. You didn't remember having already done so that destiny-filled, drunken night. You glare down at the wench of a scallywag, stamping your foot in dislike. You push away from the knobbly wooden railing, and storm down the boarding plank, leather boots slapping against the rotting dock.

"Manacca," You snap, "Shouldn't you be tending to the ship?" You arch a light eyebrow in angry questioning. She looks disinterested in your sudden appearance, but anwsers, "I was, but then ye see, Cap'n Sparrow 'ere came aboard lookin' for you. I was just entertain' him 'til ye came 'round." You give her a disbelieving look and tell her to get her arse back onto the _Banshee_, unless she'd like to stay on Tortuga to join the other wenches in their brothels. Reluctantly, she returns to the ship, leaving you and Jack alone. He smirks that cocky smirk of his, tilting his head to one side so that the beads tangled up in his dreadlockes knock against each other to make soft sounds. "What?" You inquire, but it comes out sounding more of a demand, your flustered state badly masked. He shakes his head, "Nothin', love." Your eyes narrow and you wait for the annoying comment that's bound to follow. "Yer crew doesn't..." He trails off as your glare intesifies, "Well, lets just face it, they don't like you." You shrug your small shoulders, "Yes, and?" Jack preforms a wild flourish with his hand, "Me thinks that's a tad bit--" He pauses again, dramatically, "Undiplomatic?" You sigh heavily, "Yes, I realize it's not exactly ideal, but mutiny isn't even an issue." Intruiged, Jack leans back against one of the wooden posts, "Why's that, Bell?" Your fingers ghost over the gold medallion that hangs around your long, delicate neck meaningfully, you look up to see if Jack has put two and two together. You never can tell what he's thinking though, so, truly, who is to say if he did or not? "So, ye can predict when that squalid band o' buccaneers ye call a crew is havin' less than friendly thoughts 'bout ye? What's that do fer you, really?" "Not much, but predicting things is only a part of it." You explain, but don't go into further detail, "I have my ways of keeping them in line." You say, all aloof, "I think, I'm going to leave you with that little mystery to ponder over. I need to go have a talk with Manacca." With that, you turn on your heels, leaving a curious captain behind.

"Manacca!" You yell once aboard the _Banshee_. "Aye, Cap'n?" She anwsers, letting go of the tack line she was fiddling with and approaches you. "Come with me." You command, heading towards the cabin. She follows, casting a quick look of worry around at the crew. One of them whistles low, another winks. You wait for her to enter the room and close the door behind you. Leaning against the sturdy red door frame, you cross your arms over your chest and say, "If you insist on whoreing yourself around every time we make port, I don't mind. Really, I don't, but you do _not_ fraternize with other crews. Namely, other Captians." You wait for her to say or do something to show that this information has sunk in, when she gives no sign, you continue, "If we ever go up against that crew for whatever reason, I would have no way of knowing where your loyalties, fickle as they are, lay." She still does nothing, so you close the gap between the two of you, "In other words, you keep your distance from Jack Sparrow." She finally meets your eyes, nodding, but in the most difiant way thinkable. "Glad we've come to an understanding." Tesoro, who had been hiding in the crevice of your chest, underneath the thin cotton shimmy, alerted and peaked out over the hem of your chemise. You move away to let the girl leave, Tesoro darted after her, leaving a trail of dust thin gold glitter in her wake. You look at the doorway for a long period of time, wondering what exactly that fairy was up to. You had gotten use to her hiding in random article of your clothing, needing to be near you almost all of the time. It was part of her job, protecting the oracile. You sigh, shaking your head. Moving over to shut the door, casting a quick warning look to the crew. You open one of the tiny windows so that Tesoro could return when she was ready. Moving to your desk, you open one of your drawers. Intent on spending the rest of the afternoon looking over your precious map in quiet. Originally, you hadn't even planned on filling everything in, but with the day's recent turn of events...it seemed nessacary and limited on time. The _Pearl_ would only be stationed at Tortuga for one more night, and if you wanted you most recent vision to become a reality, you needed to have fire in your sails as your quill ran across the yellowing cloth with percision.


End file.
